


Secrets Are Meant To Be Shared

by queenofinsanity6



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Historical trans, Implied Romance, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 14:59:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofinsanity6/pseuds/queenofinsanity6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie thinks it's about time he tells Peggy the truth about his gender. Features a shy FtM Angie and a very supportive Peggy. Pre Cartinelli romance, post season one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets Are Meant To Be Shared

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FloingMachines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloingMachines/gifts).



Three months. Three glorious, glamorous months. What could be better than this? She'd gone from a future secretary mourning a potential career in the theater and living under the thumb of a nosy old bat to living in a mansion and (finally) getting a chance to shine on the stage. Sure, it was just a chorus girl gig, but it was better than nothing, and everyone had to start somewhere, right? She'd have to pay her dues like everyone else, but it was a start. And living with a doll like Peggy Carter wasn't anything to blink at either.

Peggy... well, she'd thought for a while that she'd never get the woman to look twice at her. She'd been so detached, so careful, so... polite. Very English, Angie thought. But saving Peggy from the feds had changed something between them, and they both knew it. Peg still couldn't tell her everything, of course, but she didn't have to lie about everything anymore either. They were as close as Angie had always hoped they could be. And, I mean, sure, they were still just friends, but how could Angie expect more out of Peg when she thought they were both women? Did women even do that with each other? Angie wasn't sure. What she was sure of was that telling Peggy the truth about herself was a little too terrifying to even contemplate.

Angie knew for absolutely certain that she had been meant to be a man. She'd been sure of this for as long as she could remember. She wasn't sure where she'd gotten the idea that this was possible, but it was impossible to ignore. There was nothing she could do to make herself what she wanted so badly to be, but neither was there any real hope in denying it. She-no, *he* was certain that this was what it must be like to be a man. He'd never been able to talk to a man about this in a way that made any sense to anyone, let alone him, but it seemed likely. He wanted to wear those tailored suits and buy women drinks and even (he couldn't help but blush just thinking about the possibility) pee standing up, like his father and brothers.

As a kid, before he'd known to keep his mouth shut his parents had told him often that it was simply being the only girl in a family full of men that caused him to feel as though he should be one of them. He'd tried really hard to believe that, because the alternative was spending his life a freak! He'd worked hard to be the good daughter he'd been expected to be. His sewing was steady, his cooking was, if not perfect, delicious anyway. He'd learned to keep quiet and smile often, never competing with men or acting too much like them. He crossed his ankles, not his knees, he didn't hold hands till the third date, he did his makeup and wore his hair long and kept his dresses ironed and immaculate.

His family believed the act. They called him cheeky and a dreamer and when he announced his intentions to move to New York to become an actress they let him go with only some good natured ribbing. It seemed the perfect career to him-after all, he'd been acting his whole life! If he could convince the entire world that he was a woman then surely reading some lines and singing some songs would be easy. 

It should have been. He had talent. He knew it, Peggy knew it, but it was hard to focus when he was busy worrying about getting his ass swatted or the director staring at his breasts instead of paying attention to his audition. He fumbled. A lot. But then he met Peggy, and something about her inspired him to keep trying. She was beautiful and distant and there was something about her. Something that made him wonder what was behind the polite mask. How could anyone not fall in love with a woman like this? She had the spirit that the world had almost beaten out of him, and she did things he could never dream of. And now, for the first time, he found an advantage to the world confusing his gender. He could live with her without causing a scandal. As long as he pretended he was really a woman he could see her every day, eat breakfast with her, drink schnapps with her at midnight, all the things he could never do as a man.

But was it fair to Peggy? She had told him... well, not everything, but enough. He knew what the SSR was. He knew that she was a secret agent. He knew what she had done working with Captain America, and he knew that she was almost single handedly responsible for saving all of New York and clearing Howard Stark's name. Some of the things she'd told him were almost certainly too classified for her to be allowed to tell him. But he wouldn't tell her this one simple fact about himself. He could argue that it was for his own safety, that he couldn't ever tell anyone, but faced with a literal secret agent sharing her secrets with him, it seemed like a weak argument, to say the least.

He should tell, right? Peggy was an understanding woman. Maybe she'd want Angie to move out, that would be reasonable, but she wouldn't hate him for it, right? He hoped. He'd never told anyone. He hadn't thought he'd ever be able to. Maybe he still couldn't. But he loved Peggy more than anything and he wanted to be able to be honest with her. He wanted... well, things he could never have. She was beautiful, brave, clever, competent, charming.... She could have her pick of any man alive. Angie knew she'd never pick a freak like him. But he thought she might at least stay good friends with him.

He would have to tell her. She was just in the other room, he could go do it right now. But the thought of her possible reaction froze him in place. The act of deciding to tell her seemed to make it impossible for him to actually do so. To do anything, for that matter. He wasn't sure how long he stood there staring at the door. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? In the end, it was Peggy who came and peeked in his room, smiling at him in a way that always made his heart melt.

"Angie? I'm rather hungry. I thought you might like a bite as well." Peggy seemed a bit startled to find Angie staring blankly at the doorway, but didn't ask immediately.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Peg. Where did you want to eat?" He smoothed his dress, trying to stifle the sudden panic. He didn't have to tell her now. He could wait. He could wait forever if he wanted to.

"I thought we could go to that little cafe down on the corner? It's quite nice, I don't know if you've been yet."

"I haven't, but if you think it's good I'm sure it's fine." He started to ask her to wait, to let him talk to her in private first, but the words stuck in his throat. He knew the longer he waited the harder it would be, but it was already so hard.

Peggy eyed him thoughtfully. "Is something wrong, Angie? You seem a bit flustered."

"Wrong? No! Nothing's wrong." He was usually a good liar, but lately lying to Peggy had been hard. Lying now seemed almost impossible.

Peggy smiled reassuringly at her. "It's alright. Did you want to talk about it?"

"No." Angie started, then sighed. "Well, yeah. Come in, this may take a bit."

Peggy stepped into the room and sat on a convenient chair. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Yeah. Everything's fine, English. I just... well, I haven't been completely honest with you about somethin'. And I owe you better than that."

"Well, you're not obligated to tell me anything. I know I've kept plenty from you."

"I know I'm not obligated, but." Angie sighed and sat down hard on his bed. "I want to tell you. I want you to know about the important stuff. Even if it's hard to say."

Peggy seemed to light up a bit, and he allowed himself a little hope. She looked so happy to hear he wanted to confide in her. "Of course, Angie. You can tell me anything."

Angie toyed with the hem of his skirt nervously. "I know. But I've never told nobody about this before. So I'm not really sure how to start." 

"The beginning is usually a good place." She leaned forward, engaged and curious. There was something about the way she did that that made him feel like nothing in the world existed to her but him. He relaxed a little

"Well, I don't know where it started. I've been this way as long as I can remember." He sighed again. "There's just something... not right about me. I was born wrong, I guess."

"What do you mean, born wrong?" Peggy seemed a bit taken aback. "You're lovely"

"I'm... Well, I think I was supposed to be born a boy, Peg. I know it doesn't make sense. I'm obviously a girl, but... I don't feel like I'm supposed to be." The silence that greeted these words was enough to render Angie pale and terrified. He determinedly stared at his shoes, waiting for Peggy to scream or yell or just leave, something that would express the disgust that she surely must feel for him. "It's okay if you think it's creepy or something, English. I get it. I'm a freak."

"No, Angie, you're not a freak." Her voice was calm and soothing, though she sounded quite surprised.

"But I am, Peg." He was crying. When had he started crying? He hated crying. Men weren't supposed to cry. "Either I'm a girl and I'm just crazy or I'm a boy and I'm a freak.”

Peggy crossed the room to hug him. “You’re not a freak. You’re not even the only one like this, I’ve heard of others.”

Angie blinked at her, wiping his eyes absently. “Others? What do you mean, others?”

“In England there are a few surgeons who specialize in helping men and women who were born as the opposite. I’ve read about them in the paper. It’s not exactly common, of course, but I must have read about at least fifteen before the war.”

“Surgeons?” Angie was stunned. He’d never considered the possibility of physically becoming a man. He’d never thought it possible. Somehow he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea now. “And they’re allowed to live like they want to? As men and women?”

Peggy nodded. “As far as I know, yes. Some of them are married, I believe. I’ve never had the opportunity to meet any of them, so I can’t really say more than that.”

“Married.” A world of possibilities had just opened to him. Marriage. A normal life. Surely not children, of course, but the rest...He’d never dared to even dream of such a thing. “I never thought it would be possible.”

Peggy smiled at him sympathetically. “All kinds of things are possible if you like. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to be the man you want to be.”

“Oh, Peg.” Angie hugged her happily. “Thank you. I’m so lucky to have met you. More so than I realized, apparently.”

“Of course, Angie. You’re my friend, I want you to be happy. Whatever that entails.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I’m pretty sure the master bedroom still has some of Howard’s clothes. They might fit you. If you’d like. He probably doesn’t even remember they’re here.”

Angie blushed, weirdly nervous at the thought. “I dunno, English. I’d just look silly in men’s clothes like this.”

“Not at all. I’ve disguised myself as a man before. You’d be surprised how convincing a wig and an undershirt can make it.”

“Really?” Angie couldn’t help but think Peggy would be really attractive in a suit. Not disguised as a man, though, just.. wearing the suit. Not that she’d ever tell Peggy about such thoughts.

“I could help you, if you like. We could even go out like that.” Peggy was blushing faintly, Angie noticed, though he couldn't fathom why.

“I don’t know that I’m brave enough for that. What if someone figured out I was faking? Or worse, what if they recognized me?”

“I certainly won’t force you. But if you change your mind, I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thanks, Peg. You’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

“And you are often a better friend than I deserve, Angie. It’s the least I can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do a bit of research to make sure I knew what the state of trans recognition would be in the late 40s. I tried to keep it vague so I didn't accidentally mess anything up, since Peggy likely would only vaguely know details anyway.


End file.
